Strength
by mur xo
Summary: A story of love and friendship. "He was the only thing she knew. He was her strength."


**Disclaimer: **I still don't own a thing. I don't own the characters, the plot, or the magic. If I had a mind as creative as that then I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fanfiction.

**Author's Note**: Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley fascinate me. Besides, I'm a sucker for second generation fan fiction. I also think Teddy would have a lot of internal issues between trying to suck it up and be a man, and growing up with no parents, similar to Harry. So, this is my pathetic attempt at a hurt/comfort/romance story between my two favorite next generation characters! There may be more to come, but I'm not sure on how well these two will be reciprocated by you all. : )

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**STRENGTH**

_"You only meet your once in a lifetime friend... once in a lifetime." _

"Do you think it hurts?"

"Do I… What?"

"Do you think it hurts?" Victoire repeated the question, her small, delicate hand clutching her companion's tightly, white rings forming at the knuckles from the strength.

"I.. Merlin, Vic…"

She didn't let his agitation affect her. Instead, his hesitation carried her on a stronger wave of determination. Her body rolled over, her stomach conforming to the hill's natural curve. Vivid green pieces of grass stuck against her legs, contrasting alarmingly with her pale snowy skin.

"I think it'll be kind of peaceful, maybe even pleasant."

"Vic…" He stopped, hoisting his upper body up abruptly so he was face to face with her, amber eyes staring incredulously into cerulean orbs. His bangs hung over his face, hiding the eyebrows that were furrowed with confusion.

"You probably have to take the pain too, but I imagine it would drown out eventually, until you're numb."

She looked away from his piercing stare up towards the sky, cheery blue with rolling, fat cotton candy clouds. "And after you're numb, everything's okay again."

He tried to follow her gaze, the hot white sun momentarily blinding him, forcing him to turn away. A tanned muscular hand wove its way through the strands of grass, plucking them out of the earth almost nervously, trying to buy some time.

"Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it is very painful, a sharp edged misery every creature must eventually endure."

At this, she snapped her focus back to him, her eyes trying to scan his face for any sign of emotion. Disappointingly, his face was blank, an empty, shallow canvas that was in desperate need of art. She stared at him, stared until she could no longer fight the urge to blink. Water pricked against her eyes from the strain of it, between the hot sticky air and the desire to keep her gaze on him. As she blinked, she looked towards his fingers, as they unearthed the grass her father had worked endlessly to manicure.

"I think you're mental."

It was the first complete sentence he had spoken since she brought the subject up. Victoire took her free hand, and placed that over his endlessly moving one. She opened it up like a web, her fingers tracing against his palm, until it was spread, and she was able to tuck her fingers between his. She started with a light squeeze, pulsing at first, until she built up to the clutch similar to the one she had his other hand in. She kept squeezing, until both his hands and hers were a pasty white, before slowly letting them go.

He hadn't scowled when she crushed him, hadn't grimaced when the moons of her fingernails bit into the thin skin of his hands. With every ounce of strength, he squeezed back, and didn't stop until they were both shaking from the effort. The boy, her elder by a year, wasn't afraid of hurting her. She wasn't as fragile as she let everyone believe. He kept clutching until her fingers were falling out of his, before letting his own slip back, until his hands were completely untouched by hers.

"Maybe it's like this, Vic. Maybe it's this big thing that everyone waits for, but in the end, it's just a let down."

A smile curved against her full lips, pulling them back to show a quick flash of her perfect teeth. She tapped a finger gently against his knuckle, where moments earlier she had been wringing. The lack of pressure on her hands leaving her own digits feeling tingly and dissatisfied.

It was this reason why he had always found Victoire to be the best confidant. It was why he chose to have a female as his best friend, despite the merciless teasing he went through when he was younger. Somehow, Victoire made sense of the world, made everything feel rational and safe. Victoire was everything. She was the only thing he knew. She was his strength.

"Always the pessimist, aren't you _Theodore_?"

She teased, using his God-given name instead of the nickname she affectionately dubbed him with normally. Her face, once wistful, now playful, seemed more at ease now that she had her best friend's answer.

"No. But, I guess we'll never know, will we? Until it happens to us, until we're both gone."

"I guess. It's a huge mystery, isn't it?"

She waited for a flicker of acknowledgement that she received when she saw the slight nod of his head. She watched as his head ducked, watching as the sour mood she had worked so hard to snap out of him viciously pulled him back in again.

"If you ask me, I think death is pretentious, anyway."

At that, Victoire watched as Teddy cracked a smile. The reflexive action was timid at first, turning confident quickly as she baited him with a small laugh.

"You would say something like that, Vic. And no, I don't."

Her laugh stopped in its track, and her lip pulled itself into a tight line.

"You don't, what, Ted? Think it's pretentious?"

With a slight shake of his head, and a gentle toss of his unruly sandy hair, Teddy reached out to wrap a strand of Victoire's blonde hair around his index finger.

"No, goose. I don't think it hurts. I think it's a smooth and wonderful transition."

He didn't miss the flicker of anxiety that crossed her beautiful features, as he cautiously brought the back of his hand up to touch her rosy cheek.

"But only if it's the right time, Vic. I think there's a time for everything and now certainly isn't the time for that."

He leaned in, biting down gently on her bottom lip, before crashing his own lips against hers, passionately, fervently. She kissed back, with just as much zeal, before placing both hands against his shoulders and giving him a gentle push.

"What… what are we doing?"

"Why, Miss Weasley, I thought that was obvious…"

A firm shake of her head stopped his sarcastic comment from coming to an end. She had meant to comfort him, to be his strength, just like she always had. But this? Kissing him, having to choose lust or love, Victoire wasn't good at. She was great at being a friend, but being a lover instead was difficult for her to discern.

There had been many dark times in Teddy's life where he had needed Victoire. They both knew he wasn't suicidal, for he was too mild and philosophical for that. Still, his emotions were real and strong, and when he got into a mood, leaving him unattended wasn't always wise. That's why Victoire was there, so she could be his strength when the lines of reality and depression began to blur.

"I… I asked you what you…we…were doing…"

She repeated again, feeling her shoulders trembling slightly. In the fifteen years of her life, she had never been touched by a male romantically, had never experienced the feeling of dependence on another human to bring her pleasure, to make her world alright. That was always her job. She was the giver, and Teddy was the taker.

"What am I doing?" He asked, his fingers tracing the outline of her soft facial features.

"Stop that!" She replied, giving his hand a sound swat.

He grinned at her, boyishly, and Victoire felt her breath hitch.

"What… are…"

"I'm being you're strength."

His reply made her lips seek his, as she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck.

It was the reason why she had always been fond of Teddy, why she always stuck by his side instead of going to do things with her girlfriends. Somehow, Teddy made everything alright, Teddy made everything feel good and safe. Teddy was everything. He was the only thing she knew. He was her strength.

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Reviews from wonderful _readers like you_ would be much appreciated!

Tell me if you hate it, or if you liked it. A simple acknowledgment would be amazing!

xo Mur


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